I'm Alright
by HarryLurvsMarsBars
Summary: How will Jake Berkeley's return to Miami affect Calleigh and Eric's relationship?


**Just a little one-shot that's my take on Jake returning for next episode. Inspired by the song I'm Alright by Jo Dee Messina.**

Calleigh retrieved her purse from the hanger in the narrow stall that she disdainfully called a locker (as its actual willingness to lock was hit-or-miss) and grabbed the sack of work-out clothes she had brought in case they wrapped up the investigation fast enough to allow her to go to the gym and get home at a decent hour. To her extreme surprise, despite the dramatic events of the day, their killer had been caught and the victim's family was given answers, just in time for the technical end of her shift to conclude. There was one investigation, however, that was still ongoing, and that was Eric's. It would be an outright lie to say that she wasn't surprised to see him walking around the lab at Horatio's side, conversing tersely instead of their usual tone that had once only proved that they were close, quite the contrast to today. An even bigger shock was to walk down the glass hallway, glance over and see him towering figure at the end of one of the tables they used in interrogation, except that he was on the questioning end and not the receiving.

He had told her he was going to work that morning. She clearly remembered the sensation of those full luscious lips on her own at the crack of dawn, coaxing her out of her restful slumber. She had muttered something about morning breath, and he said something along the lines of "don't care" and then kissed her and kissed her until she wanted to do nothing more for the rest of the day than lay there and be with him, to snuggle and tease and kiss and, even better, make love. And then he had whispered that dreaded, unforgiveable word "_work"_ in his sexily gruff voice, his bedroom voice, that voice that made Calleigh melt to pieces in his large, warm hands, all for him to do as he pleased with. Calleigh's own tiny whimper and her sudden need to sit down brought her out of reveries and into reality. So maybe he hadn't actually said that hewas going to _work_, as in the State Attorney's office, but Calleigh had simply assumed. He usually informed her if he was going elsewhere, even the couple of occasions he was going to be at the lab he had told her. But not today. Why not today? She knew that evidence had been stolen, but that was a job for IAB and, anyways, how did he know before her? No one else on the team who had verbalized with him had said anything to her about their conversation. She had barely had time to speak with him herself all day, and she yearned for the opportunity now. The only problem, however, was that she had no idea where he was, and he wasn't answering her calls. Calleigh sighed before rising from her seat on the bench, shutting and locking her locker. Maybe she would pass him on the way out the door.

There was something oddly familiar about the slim, muscular figure that was standing alone waiting for the elevator, facing away from her. The sandy brown hair was obviously overworked with its carefully gelled chunks that gave the bed-head affect, but it seemed to work for him, Calleigh noticed, as a few women eyed him appreciatively. The light gray t-shirt he wore clung to the lean but defined muscles in his shoulders, and the dark jeans curved perfectly around his – ahem – assets. Calleigh's cheeks tinged the slightest pink for that thought. As she scanned him again – for she was sure that she recognized him from somewhere – her keen CSI eyes caught the slightest peek of some kind of design tattooed onto his left tricep…

"Jake?" His name had escaped her lips before she could stop it. For the sake of her own pride, she hoped that he would turn around, for if he didn't the people around her would definitely chuckle at her mistake, but at the same time she desperately wished it wasn't him, of all people. Perhaps, by sheer luck and good fortune, his name would be Jake but it wouldn't really be _Jake_.

Her stars failed her completely when at that moment Jake Berkeley turned around slowly, as if he wasn't completely sure someone had really called his name. Their eyes met and for one heart-stopping moment for Jake, her face was the only one in the crowd, standing out like that of an angel's.

"Calleigh," he murmured, before rushing the ten yards or so that separated them and gathering her into an enveloping hug. Calleigh was so shocked she couldn't move until he had begun to release her, her hand coming to rest on his elbow.

"Jake," she said again, her voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?" She didn't mean it to sound offensive or snippy; it was just one of the many honest-to-God questions that were flooding into her mind.

He shifted his weight from one food to another. "Maybe we could go somewhere more inconspicuous. I wouldn't doubt if some of these people recognized me as the bitchy night shift ex-boyfriend of the best ballistics expert in the lab."

His oh-so-familiar cocky grin was infectious, and Calleigh couldn't help the way the corners of her lips twitched upward in a semblance of a smile. "I don't know Jake. I – any other time, I might say yes, but –"

"Come on Cal," he pleaded softly, taking her hand and stroking the back softly. "Just a drink, that's all I'm asking for."

Calleigh politely pulled her hand away and gave him a reproving look. The last time she had seen him they were breaking up, and he was going off to yet another undercover assignment. She had thought about him from time to time, wondering how he was, if he was even still alive. However, the look in those baby blue eyes that had once charmed her so well were saying the contrary for himself; she just wasn't sure how far it went. She glanced around the area to see if she saw the tall, dark man that was her only reason for saying 'no' at this point, but could not find him anywhere. One drink wouldn't hurt.

"Okay."

All plans of having a nice long work out went out the window as Calleigh stepped into her off-duty car and led Jake to a place where she and Eric had visited only once, a satisfactory sports bar that was always loud and full of cheers and, most important at this point for Calleigh, smoke-free.

When they were sat at their table, there was a somewhat awkward silence between them, and Calleigh was getting a feel of how wrong this was, to be going for a drink with her ex-boyfriend without telling her current boyfriend anything about it. There was still that tiny thought kicking her in the head, though, repeating over and over _'he didn't tell you' _and her avenging side took over.

"Well here we are," she said casually, not giving away her mixed emotions of excitement to see him and resentment of coming to this place. "I suppose you have some major answers for my questions since you cut into my workout time."

He chuckled. "Where to start, where to start…"

Calleigh smiled reassuringly. "How about the beginning?"

Jake fingered the rim of his beer bottle before looking at her once more. "Okay. After I left Miami, I went undercover, as you know. I traveled to Pensacola, where my partner and I were assigned to this predominantly Hispanic gang called Lucifer's Mañana, where they did the usual stuff; guns, girls, and cash. But one thing they're notorious for is weeding out their weaker members with monthly knife fights amongst themselves. Also, if you were suspected for ratting or not filling out a hit, this is what you were subjected to, whether you were guilty or not and often times you fought all day only to the die at the end."

"How did you pass for Hispanic?" Calleigh asked as he paused to take a swig of Shiner Bock.

"You'd be surprised what a regular tan and a dye job can do," he replied, smiling. "And I really just had to look like I had a bit of Latino in me. But anyway, these knife fights were really like knife fight tournaments. You never knew when they were going to come up, and you rarely knew who would be participating, but you could always guess."

"Did you ever have to get into one of these knife fights?" Calleigh asked hesitantly.

Jake nodded. "That's what I'm getting to. Anyways, about eight months into the job we were getting close to taking them down. We had plenty of evidence, guns, counterfeit money, you name it, but we needed a little more time, because my partner and I were starting to get somewhat suspected for being cops, and we were both named to be part of the next fight. As you can tell by my presence I somehow managed to win, and so did my partner. About two weeks later, we had a team come in and took them down."

They were silent until Calleigh cut it. "It sounds typical, from what you've told me about your other assignments."

"It wasn't," Jake said, and Calleigh could tell he was hesitating to say something. "I – I've never had to kill so many people, good or bad they didn't deserve to die the way I killed them. And the looks on their faces, right before I stabbed them, like they knew it was going to happen before it did, and I almost couldn't do it."

"Jake you have to think of yourself, as well. They chose gang life, either by pressure or by want, I don't know, but –"

"Calleigh, I chose undercover life just like they chose gang life; they're almost interchangeable as far as the danger factor goes. I just couldn't help thinking that maybe next time, on my next assignment, I'm not so lucky. Maybe I'll be that guy getting stabbed, or shot, or maybe I _can't_ kill someone or do the drugs; and then I'm caught, and not only is my life over, but the rest of the investigation as well." He paused to gather his composure before speaking again. "Which is why I've decided to give it up. I want a real life, with a real job that doesn't involve smoking and killing. I want a real family with a wife and kids and a big house and everything else with it."

Calleigh could sense what was coming next and she decided to try and spare them both by blurting out, "Jake, Eric and I are dating."

Jake sighed, looking dejected. "I know," he muttered. "Wolfe told me. I just wanted to let you know, before it's too late, if I never see you again, and that…I love you. That's not to try to win you over, or steal you away or anything like that. I guess it's more of a do-over for all those years we spent together, and I could have had you, but I was too conceited and adventure-obsessed to realize that everything I needed was you. I'm sorry if I ever worried you with no word or left you hanging. I'm sorry for wasting your time, when you could have been with him all along. I know you wanted to be, so don't even try to deny it. He was your best friend when I should have been. He was solid and I was bumpy and unreliable, and I'm so, so sorry. You deserve him," he added softly, smiling sadly up at her.

Calleigh could say nothing, and sharp tears pricked behind her eyes. She sniffed. "You took the words right out of my mouth," she said, giving him a watery smile. "But really, thank you, Jake, for telling me. I'm glad to know that you aren't putting yourself through the undercover work anymore."

"Well, I'm glad that you're glad," he said, standing up. "You, um, you look alright, by the way."

Calleigh narrowed her eyes as she gathered her jacket and purse. "Is that a compliment?"

"That's the word for I-don't-know-how-to-tell-her-she-looks-amazing-because-she-has-a-boyfriend-and-i-don't-want-to-get-annhilated."

Calleigh giggled, stepping out the door that Jake was holding open for her. "Then, yeah, I'm alright."

As they walked through the parking lot to find their cars, Calleigh suggested, "We could do this again, you know, Eric doesn't completely hate you." _I think._

"Hmm, maybe." Jake replied. "I'll keep an eye out for your call."

They each went to the driver side of their adjacently parked cars, and Calleigh turned around.

"Goodbye, Jake."

"Hopefully it's not our last," Jake said, smiling.  
***

As Calleigh pulled onto her street, the first thing she noticed was the presence of Eric's car. Calleigh sighed. She didn't know what to expect when she found him.

Unlocking the front door she put her keys and purse on the table by the door. "Eric?" she called, hoping for a response.

"In the kitchen," came his reply.

Calleigh sighed with relief. While his voice sounded stressed, he did not seem to be angry. Kicking off her heels she padded into the kitchen where she found Eric sitting at the table, drinking some decaf coffee and absently reading the sports page of the newspaper. He looked up at her and smiled but did not offer her a kiss. She sat down next to him, taking one of his hands in hers and squeezing it.

"I thought you were going to go to the gym," he said, sighing and putting down the paper in order to bring her to his lap.

"I got, uh, sidetracked," Calleigh said, adjusting herself nervously on his legs.

"By Jake?"

Calleigh looked down at his chest. "Who told you?"

"Wolfe."

_That man needs to shut his mouth, _Calleigh reprimanded in her head, but quickly regained her thoughts. "Eric, we just talked."

"What did he want?" Eric asked, taking her own hand in his and playing absentmindedly with her fingers, threading and unthreading his own between hers. He wasn't being defensive, but curious.

"Closure," Calleigh replied simply. There was a confused silence. "He told me he's quitting undercover."

Eric looked surprised. "Wow. Did he say why?"

Calleigh snuggled her face into his chest. "The same reasons you quit CSI: there's the danger factor, mainly, but he wants a relationship, a real life. Things he can't have when he's pretending to be a gang member."

Eric was silent for a moment. "Did he try to ask you back out?"

Calleigh chuckled. "No I was spared that by our dear friend Ryan, who told him about us."

Eric laughed as well. "For once that big mouth of his comes in handy."

Calleigh's grin faded slowly. "I love you Eric, you know that, right?"

"Of course," he replied immediately. "And you know I love you, right?"

"Right."

"Good. Because that will never, ever change."

"I'm glad."


End file.
